


desperate and divine

by crownedcarl



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Breathplay, Corsetry, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sensation Play, Trans Nathan Wuornos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23988451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl
Summary: He leaves a five-star review onBoutique Burlesque'swebsite. Anonymously.High quality product. Came as expected. Instructions were easy to understand.It feels amazing.
Relationships: Duke Crocker/Nathan Wuornos
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	desperate and divine

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to today's episode of "kinks I know nothing about" - I'm glad to have you here with me. The title is from Florence and The Machine. I hope you enjoy reading this and I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! ❤
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://dickardgansey.tumblr.com/) for those interested and I'd love it if you'd check out my [other Haven fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl/works?fandom_id=9218791)!

Nathan doesn't know where he gets the idea.

It comes together slowly. It's a jigsaw puzzle of half-baked ideas Nathan doesn't want to look at too closely, but it still sits at the forefront of his mind for days. Weeks, even, by the time he starts to consider it seriously, growing flustered under the bright lights of the PD when his fingers hesitate on his phone screen.

 _Boutique Burlesque,_ the website cheerfully tells him with its big, bright red banner, the lower body of a slender woman in garters prominently featured on the right side. On the left side, there are muscular legs enveloped in fishnets, a delicate lace trim sitting on narrow hips. Nathan casts a surreptious glance around, clearing his throat as he stands, telling himself that he's not doing anything _wrong_ when he flees to the bathroom and locks the door quickly behind himself in the stall.

It smells like urinal cake and day-old sweat in there. Nathan leans back against the door, taking deep breaths, fingers nervously toying with the collar of his shirt. They drift higher, pressing in. His breath labors for a moment.

 _Men's selection._ Nathan clicks the sub-header, realizing how dry his throat is only when it clicks when he swallows, his hand clammy around the phone. A drop down menu displays twelve out of thirty items, ranging from simple enough silk panties to elaborate lingerie decorated with ribbons and lace designs. Lower on the screen, a helpful sidebar tells him that he can limit his search.

Nathan unchecks every box but _corsets._

He startles badly when someone enters the bathroom, jerking around in the stall and hurriedly sitting down, pretending to be busy. It takes a minute or two for the person to leave, the door shutting on absurdly loud hinges. Every breath he takes feels like a confession of guilt.

On the screen, there's a wide selection of colors and materials. _Popular with beginners!_ one piece proclaims and Nathan bites his lower lip raw before clicking on the image, being taken to a description with an array of angles and bodies for him to compare his own up against. It comes with a manual, apparently. Nathan hadn't thought about that.

It looks pretty. Blacker than night and delicate, suited for a men's size medium - measurements are beyond him, but Nathan's finger hovers on the option of adding it to his cart. Discreet shipping available.

At checkout, Nathan winces, wondering if maybe it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie. He shudders out a breath heavy with nerves, then lets the autofill input his credit card information, his chest heaving with breath.

Two clicks later, it's ordered. Nathan shoves his phone in his back pocket and makes a show of washing his hands, staring at himself in the mirror and wondering why it feels like he's just made a big mistake.

* * *

It arrives on a Tuesday.

Nathan is riding Duke in the bowels of The Rouge, his knees slipping on Duke's shiny leather couch. "Easy, Nate," Duke breathes, hands tight on Nathan's hips, mouth open on a groan that echoes around them, bouncing off walls until it disappears. Duke shoves up inside of him, hard and hot, Nathan's hand grabbing one of Duke's to guide it between his trembling thighs.

"You wanna?" Duke huffs, closing his eyes, teasing his fingers lightly across Nathan's clit, "I got it."

Breathless with half-remembered desire and caught up in the muscle memory of it, Duke makes Nathan come in under twenty seconds. He's good at that. Panting, Nathan drags Duke's slick fingers up his body, watching as Duke watches him, how a frown settles between his eyebrows when Nathan invites Duke's fingers on his throat. "Nate..."

Duke doesn't like it. Nathan sighs deeply, then shakes his head. "Forget it," he pants, working his hips in shallow circles, seeing Duke's left eye twitch. It means he's close - or he's annoyed. Both, maybe, at this point, when Nathan groans "Harder," and drags Duke headfirst into a demanding rhythm that borders on brutal but never quite tips over.

He knows Duke doesn't like that, either, but Duke feels sorry for him. Duke feels guilty, so he fucks Nathan as hard as Nathan wants him to until Duke's gritting his teeth and coming like it hurts, clutching Nathan around the waist, panting damp and hot against Nathan's collarbone while he stares up at the ceiling, chin resting on Duke's head.

It was good. "It always is," Nathan sighs, later, when he's managed to put his clothes back on, "Don't overthink it, alright? I'll-"

Call you, maybe. Nathan could say that, but it would be a lie. Duke shakes his head, a wry smile sitting in the corner of his mouth like he knows it, too. "Right," he sighs, flopping down on the couch, "See you later, then."

It makes Nathan hesitate by the door. Duke closes his eyes and Nathan tip-toes back over, nudging Duke's knees apart to stand between them, hastily dipping down to kiss Duke goodbye.

He takes the long way home, feeling vacant. On the porch, there's a package. Nathan has never moved faster in his life than when he rushes to get it inside, setting it down gently on his bed, like he's handling something volatile.

"What am I doing," Nathan breathes, pushing a hand into his hair. "Stupid."

It takes him the better part of an hour and a half to work up the nerve to actually open the package. There's bubble wrap, for some reason and a flyer telling him he's a valued customer - but beneath that, at the bottom of the box, sits a slip of black satin and lace ribbons.

He cringes from the first pass of his fingers across the material. It looks too small, impossibly small - it won't fit around his chest, much less his stomach. What was he thinking-?

Hesitantly, Nathan spreads the material out on his lap, nervously tracing the trim of steel he can feel beneath the satin. He fumbles for the helpful _Introduction to corsetry_ handbook that sits innocently beside him, taking a deep breath before opening it up.

Nathan devours the instructions. He goes over them obsessively, page by page, until he has some idea of what to expect. He can hook it in the front, if he's alone, but the ribbons in the back can be tightened. There are wear time recommendations, tips on how to adjust - tips on how to hide it beneath his clothes, but Nathan cringes from that suggestion, trying to imagine himself chasing down a perp with a damn corset cinched around his waist.

It's stupid. It was an impulse buy.

Nathan shoves everything back in the box and then under the bed, rolling over on his back with a heartfelt _"Fuck."_

* * *

It takes two days for him to work up the nerve to at least try.

He gets home from work and sets himself to the task, closing his curtains and putting his phone on silent, sitting on his bed wearing nothing but briefs. The corset had looked terrifying, at first glance, but in Nathan's hands, it seems harmless. It's just some satin, he tells himself. It couldn't hurt to try.

The only full-length mirror available is in the hallway. Nathan sighs and practically throws himself to his feet before he loses his nerve, standing up straight in front of the mirror, taking the two ends of the corset and finally putting it against his skin, shivering with the feeling of it. It looks too small. It stretches a little, though, with a give to it that Nathan wasn't expecting. "Your natural waistline," he reads off the manual he's put down flat on the rickety little table lining the hallway, "Breath should be tight, but not-"

Nathan laughs, putting one hand to his forehead. "Showtime."

The hooks are easy enough to navigate. The material digs into his skin, already leaving marks around Nathan's ribs, but when Nathan looks in the mirror, his waist looks exactly the same. A straight up and down line; no curve, no give.

He hesitates before reaching for the ribbons in the back. A deep breath in and he tugs on them, feeling how the corset tightens around him, shaping him into something new - something he's never seen before. Nathan fumbles to tie the ends off, once he's verging on breathless, but he gets them done eventually.

It's harder to breathe. He can think clearly, now. Still, Nathan keeps his arms around himself, afraid to look properly, shuffling his feet in place and finally letting his arms straighten out, hands hanging down by his thighs.

The look isn't half bad. The feeling-

The non-feeling-

It's good. It settles Nathan in a way he's never been able to articulate. The satin makes a shiver of a sound when Nathan brushes his fingers across it.

He could get used to this.

* * *

On Saturday, Nathan wears the corset around the house.

He beats the urge until midday. By noon, Nathan is restless with desire and anticipation.

It slips right on, like it was made for him. Nathan shudders harshly, tightening the ribbons, watching as his chest expands for breath while it still can. It tightens around his chest, his ribs, less confining than Nathan expected it to feel. It mostly feels grounding, standing in the hallway with the corset on, finally able to suck in a breath and pacing himself with the next one.

He leaves a five-star review on _Boutique Burlesque's_ website. Anonymously.

_High quality product. Came as expected. Instructions were easy to understand._

_It feels amazing._

* * *

Sunday, Duke invites him over to his place.

It happens in passing, as it always does. Duke smiles at him while he's serving drinks at the Gull and says "Mine, later?" and Nathan nods, drawing his jacket a little tighter around himself, because he was expecting the invitation. He came prepared.

Duke can't possibly know that he's wearing it. He's smart, but Nathan is wearing enough layers to safely hide the shape of satin and steel sitting on his ribs and narrowing his waist. He clears his throat and takes the drink he's offered, murmuring "It's a date," before retreating back to a corner of the restaurant where he can calm down before Duke clocks out for the night.

They walk together, talking about nothing. Duke pauses by a storage container to fix his shoelaces and when he stands back up, Nathan takes his face in his hands and kisses him, clumsily guiding Duke back against the container, trembling against Duke's mouth.

"What was that for?" Duke murmurs.

"You'll see," Nathan tells him, nervous energy making his fingers dance uncertainly across Duke's cheekbone. "Come on."

Duke locks the door behind them, then sits down on the couch to remove his boots. He does it methodically. Nathan wonders if that's how Duke touches him, too, when Nathan isn't paying attention.

Nathan hangs his jacket on the hooks by the door. He folds his sweater and places it on the couch, stumbling a little when Duke comes up behind him to kiss his neck. "Missed you," Duke sighs and Nathan squeezes Duke's wrists where they hover just above his hips, suddenly terrified of being laughed at.

"Wait."

He's been on and off with Duke for over a decade, now. There's nothing Duke hasn't seen, nothing he hasn't done with Nathan, but the fear sits in Nathan's throat and expands like a balloon filled to capacity. He exhales deeply, tilting his head when Duke's chin settles on his shoulder, lips ghosting across Nathan's cheek.

He can hear the drag of Duke's mouth against stubble, sighing out a laugh. "You can say no," Nathan murmurs, loosening his grip on Duke's wrists, letting them settle on his hips. He's sure that by now, with Duke's chest to his back, the corset must be unavoidably noticeable. Duke doesn't have to be on board with this. "You might not like it."

Duke doesn't say a word, though. Not until he chuckles "Won't like what?" and inches forward, hips against Nathan's ass, fingers sliding up beneath Nathan's shirt. When he doesn't find bare skin, Duke pauses.

He pauses for an eternity. "It's stupid," Nathan finally says, stepping out of Duke's arms and reaching for his jacket, "Nevermind."

A hand catches him by the elbow and guides him back around. Duke's expression is difficult to read - surprise and an undercurrent of amusement, maybe, but Duke's face softens when he sees Nathan's grit teeth, his clenched jaw. "Nate," Duke exhales, taking his shirt by the hem, signaling his intent and Nathan, despite the discomfort, lifts his arms for Duke to undress him, anyway. "I didn't say that."

His shirt comes off quickly, landing in a puddle on the floor. Duke's eyes go wide. His lower lip rolls between his teeth. "Jesus."

Nathan stands there in the corset, feeling awfully shy when Duke's hands flutter to a stop on his waist. Nathan closes his eyes, going unsteady when Duke kisses his forehead. "I want," Duke groans, "To see you in just this."

Nathan obliges. Duke watches as he unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them halfway down his thighs and stepping out of them. His briefs are snug around his hips.

"Just the corset."

With trembling hands, Nathan slips his briefs off, too.

"Better?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

Duke stares at him like he's never seen Nathan naked, before. His hand ghosts up the outside of Nathan's thigh. "You have no idea," Duke tells him, "How good you look, right now. Fuck, _Nate."_

He crowds Nathan up against the arm of the couch, curiously tugging at the ribbons in the back. He doesn't tighten them. Duke's careful not to, cupping Nathan's cheek in one hand and staring at him in wonder and a speechless Duke Crocker is something Nathan has seldom had the chance to experience. He spreads his legs around Duke's hips, shifting to sit on the arm of the couch, inviting Duke closer with a hand on his lower back. "You like it?"

Duke hums, mouthing at the hollow of Nathan's throat. Lazily, his fingers drift up and around Nathan's thigh, gently exploring the heat and slick of him. "Like it a lot," Duke agrees, "I could eat you right up."

"Oh," Nathan breathes, laughter coloring the sound, "Yeah. You should."

Duke doesn't start for the bedroom, though. He takes Nathan by the hips and guides him to sit on the couch, hurrying down to kneel between Nathan's open thighs, Duke's hands dragging him lower, until his ass is halfway off the pillow. "Right here?" Nathan asks, hearing the breathless cadence of his own voice, "Shit. Alright."

Duke wants him that much, he's willing to get on his knees. Nathan has never felt more -

Nathan has never felt more.

"You've seen yourself, right?" Duke groans, pressing kisses to the inside of Nathan's thigh, "Yeah, right here. Right now. Tell me how it feels," he demands, darting a warm glance up at Nathan, "I want to know."

Duke hasn't taken his clothes off, yet. He's still in his button-down shirt, but it doesn't bother Nathan the way it would've, any other time. He's practically naked, but Duke's the one who's breathing raggedly, parting Nathan's thighs wide with his hands, tongue tracing between Nathan's folds, following a path right up to his clit. "You know I like this part," Nathan groans, shifting to place his legs on Duke's shoulders, "You know I can't feel it."

"Not what I meant," Duke huffs, raising an eyebrow, "The pretty thing you're wearing. Tell me all about it."

Nathan sucks in a sharp breath, tossing one arm carelessly across his eyes. "I'm not good at that," he argues, peering down to see Duke mouthing at his folds, two fingers already working Nathan open, "You know that."

He doesn't keep arguing, though. Duke has the lights dimmed and the leather couch squeaks under Nathan's thighs and the corset is just tight enough that when Nathan sighs, his breath punches right back out of him, shallow and soft. Watching Duke has always been the main event, for Nathan, since the day he stopped being able to _feel_ Duke, but it's nerve-wracking to stare down at Duke's flushed cheeks and his hungry mouth, how his tongue flattens against Nathan's clit in an act of worship. "I guess - ah-"

Nathan struggles for the words, fisting a hand in the blanket thrown across the couch. Duke shuffles closer, hiking Nathan's legs higher on his shoulders, burying his face between Nathan's thighs. He lifts his hips, encouraging and deliberate, shakily offering "It feels - comforting," as he blinks up at the light fixture, vision going a little fuzzy. In a body that hasn't felt like it belonged to him in years, Nathan feels more in control than ever before. "When I breathe, I can...I can almost feel it. Almost-"

Duke hums right up against his clit. Nathan gasps, grinding his hips down, laughing sharply when Duke groans a quiet _christ_ up against his folds. "Almost p-peaceful. You know?"

Maybe other people feel at home in their bodies. Maybe Duke doesn't have any idea what he's talking about, but he nods and works his fingers deeper, knowing every inch of Nathan, inside and out - at least the hot spots, if nothing else. Nathan squirms down on that touch, hearing the unmistakable sound of sweat-slick skin dragging against leather, his voice fracturing somewhere in the middle. "Feels like - it's mine. Mine again."

Duke slides a hand up Nathan's thigh, grabbing his ass, urging Nathan's hips higher. It's a dizzying sensation that fills Nathan's head with static, experiencing himself from the outside. He knows he's wet because of Duke's mouth moving slick on him, his tongue dragging against Nathan's clit - and the knowing makes it hotter, makes Nathan wetter, one hand clenching in the blanket while the other chases down his body, past his stomach, to settle in Duke's hair. "Feels - feels-"

Nathan fell off a roof, once. He was younger then than he is now, but he fell off a roof on some stupid dare way back when and on the way down, before the terror had time to take root in his stomach, Nathan had been comfortable in the freefall.

"Falling - flying-"

The words come out scrambled. Duke moans and Nathan shudders, his vision narrowing to a pinprick of hazy light, body tensing on the couch. He exhales and the breath transforms to a laugh.

Nathan comes and the freefall yanks him into what must be another dimension, because when he manages to open his eyes again, his legs are resting across Duke's lap, his body turned sideways against Duke. The corset must be pinching him, at this point, but for lack of feeling it, Nathan decides to keep it on, humming quietly against Duke's shoulder.

"I know," Nathan finally says, burrowing a little closer when Duke's arm winds around his waist, "You don't like to - hurt me."

"Of course not," Duke agrees, nosing Nathan's temple. "Seems like a decent compromise, though."

"It's not just about sex."

Nathan's voice falters a little. He traces the pads of Duke's fingers. "It's for me," he goes on, shrugging once, "Sometimes, it's just for me."

It's a new dimension of feeling. It feels kind of cheesy to tell Duke that, though, so Nathan just sighs "I'm sorry I kept pushing," and then offers a quieter "But I'm glad you liked it."

"Nathan," Duke murmurs, "It's you. Of course I like it," and Nathan takes a deep breath, and holds.

Holds.

Holds.


End file.
